And Through All of This
by Little Obsessions
Summary: CNJ. After a long time of writing nothing, I return. It's just about them and life as Mia settles into the palace. They've not confirmed their relationship. Ever, Please Read it, I want to know if I can still write. Violence!
1. Chapter 1

_Ok, so you all forgot who I am. I haven't written fan-fiction at all in what feels like forever because there were matters in my life that took precedence. I return, humbly. None of this ever belonged to me, but to Meg Cabot, Disney and associates. BTW I stole Benyon, from the Scarlet Pimpernel, which belongs to the estate of Baroness Orczy._

The Genovian sun was unbearably warm, burning the bare skin of her neck as she strolled around the gardens, aimlessly wandering when she knew there was an excessive amount of paper work waiting for her in her office. Yet, she couldn't be bothered at all. Today, of all days, when the palace seemed to be in complete disaray, was the day Mia was arriving, for the first time. And, there was something terribly unfair about that, she wasn't prepared and still, things were charging ahead.

She felt as if it would take forever to piece herself together, and forever was a luxury she did not have. However, she knew exactly why she felt like this, which made it worse in a sense. His absence made her like this, what a pitiful excuse, but his absence made her feel weak. If it wasn't for the knowledge of where he was and who he was with, there would have been nothing to console her at all. Vicious in its intent, her loneliness had returned full force, that utter feeling of despair that seemed to fill her. She hadn't felt it so violently for years, yet there it was, quick to return at the most bizarre of moment.

But it was frustratingly stupid, for he was coming home today, back to her and the despair didn't lift, regardless of her futile attempt to make herself feel sane.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Benyon, the Head Valet, approaching her from across one of the lawns.

"Ma'am", he inclined his head towards her, clicking his heels together, "Genovia one has just landed, Joseph wished me to inform you they should be here in no longer than an hour". He smiled.

"Thank you, Benyon", she smiled slightly, "Is that all?"

"Another thing, Ma'am", Benyon bowed his head again in that annoyingly reverent manner, "The Music selections from the Ball on Saturday have arrived, the band wish to know your choices as soon as possible".

"Yes", Clarisse nodded, dismissively waving the idea of selecting music right now with a swish of her elegant hand, "Later, that will be all Benyon".

The man paused with an open mouth, but closing it again, clicked his heels and turned swiftly away from her.

The heat was still, even though she had noticed during their short conversation, stiflingly hot. She turned towards the cool attraction of the palace and began to walk slowly across the lawn, her hat pulled low over her face and her hands clasped in from of her.

She couldn't wait to see him any longer, and how pathetic was that. It disgusted her, her own weakness and inability to function without him. It had been stupid of her to make him stay on in California when at her disposal was 100 other security men, that was why they had parted on such a distasteful note. He had been angered with her insistence that he stay and look after Mia, but she only trusted him to do the job properly. It was important after all that Mia had the best security, in the hands of Joseph nothing else but such security was accepted. She was heir to the throne and Genovia came first, always.

He was second, he always had been and she had never endeavoured to change that, even though she had been given every opportunity. She would not allow it, that's why her selfishness at missing him was so terrible. She had never allowed him to be so deep in her affections that she had the right to miss him, yet here she was, missing him like he was vital to her existence.

Of course, in a way she hated to admit, he was. If it wasn't for him, she would never have survived the death of Philippe, which was still a painfully open wound. She wouldn't have been able to cope with Mia in San Francisco if it hadn't been for his unwavering, quiet support that propped her up.

She had thought so much, and wandered so far she found herself at her chamber door. Opening the door, she slipped into the cool, dark outer room and made her way to the couch, slipped off her shoes and hat and laid herself down. She was tired and uneasy, even though there was no reason for either. Maybe it was the fact she had been preparing non stop for the last two weeks in preparation for Mia's arrival. And if, she was honest with herself - which seemed to hurt more than being honest with anyone else - she hadn't slept properly since she had returned to Genovia. But now, her eyes slid shut and she fell into a fitful sleep. A half coma of thought and dreams and for all she tried to empty her overworking mind, all she could think of was Joseph.

_Please R&R._

_Thank you._

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all the reviews, I felt so loved! Hi Sue! Nice to see you ;P_

_Lol, none of this belongs to me, you know, all property of Disney and Meg Cabot and associates. _

For all the limos were fitted with air-conditioning, Joseph felt as if the endless heat would eventually cook him. Already, he'd divested himself of his jacket and tie and still, it wouldn't lift. Mia was reclining back on the seat, her ear phones in her ears, her eyes never moving from the blue tinted windows as she gazed out into the country. The winding road up to the palace was busy, and the convoy of cars were being swamped by paparazzi on their scooters and Joseph, through all of this was not a happy man. He was tired, he was bored, and he had spent his time in San Francisco babysitting, when his real remit mentioned no such mundane task. S

Secondly, he was desperate to see her, which was pathetic because he doubted she was remotely interested in him, or how he felt. She, on the other hand felt nothing, she was disgustingly cold, yet sometimes she gave him relief. She smiled at him, or touched his hand in a way that he prayed was to illustrate more than a want of friendship. Like when they had danced In California, her eyes danced with life for the first time in years. He wanted so desperately then to kiss her, that she might not refuse him.

He hoped in vain no doubt, but it helped him get through the day, the fantasy that she might want him. He sighed to himself and straightened up in the seat and smiling dully at the Princess, who was watching him intently. She turned away again, back to looking out at the field which were now going past quicker than they had been in the abysmal traffic.

Soon, they were before the massive gates of the palace and Mia's face gave off the idea she was enraptured by its grandeur. Charlotte stood on the steps, her clipboard in hand. The palace, for all its glory looked dull. From a distance, Joseph could see Charlotte's smile didn't really extend to her eyes and that Shades seemed to be stiffly pensive. Again, he let out a low sigh, knowing that whatever news his return merited wasn't going to be pleasant.

He mustered a smile and turned to the eagerly expectant princess, whose immediate question was, as her face fell in disappointment;

"Where's My Grandma, I thought she'd be here to greet me?"

The car stopped at the steps and the driver flung the doors open, letting sticky, unhealthy air into the car.

"She may be in a meeting," he replied carefully as he got out of the car, helping her out a moment later.

"Oh right", she answered, hauling her bag over her shoulder, "I figured she might want to see me as soon as she got here".

"Yes, of course she would Mia," he smiled, "But we do not always get what we want". Mia looked at him strangely, a look he could not quite place and it made him feel awkward.

Charlotte had joined them now for which he was glad she turned to the princess and greeted her with a smile as she welcomed her to the palace. Then she turned to Joseph and gave him a sort of 'we need to talk look'. Suggesting Mia go up to the door of the palace and take a look around, he promised Charlotte would accompany her on a tour if she allowed Charlotte and Shades to give him a private briefing for just a moment. Mia obliged, rather grudgingly to be left alone for a moment. Once she had wandered away, up the steps and out of ear-shot, charlotte began mumbling gravely.

"She's ill, Joseph," Charlotte muttered, while Shades nodded stoically, "She's refusing to eat, she didn't even eat her favourite meal last night. She's been snapping at everyone and she hasn't slept either, she's up to all hours signing papers in the office. We thought…you…well, she listens to you."

Joseph stared at her for a second, and then snorted bitterly; he was no voice of reason for a woman with no heart. Regardless of how close they had come in San Francisco, she would not allow it. He had tried so unwaveringly to woo her yet she was no candidate for his affections.

"Where is she?" he questioned, turning to Shades.

"Well, she went up to her suite about an hour ago and hasn't come out since, we can't go in, you know how much she loathes anyone in her chamber", he answered.

"I shall go", he sighed, taking off his shades and putting them in his breast pocket, "Don't let anyone disturb her, for nothing."

They both nodded in agreement and with that, he had taken himself upstairs as Charlotte offered Mia a tour around the palace and Shades returned to organising security matters for the ever looming Ball.

The corridors leading to her chamber were cool and it was a pleasant change from the sweltering heat outside, unrelenting in its pursuit of burning every inch of unprotected skin. He walked slowly; in no rush to face the torrent of abuse that he knew was soon to face him. She would tell him he had no business in bothering her, that there was nothing wrong with her but from the evidence of the sombre mood in the palace, there clearly was.

He stopped in front of her doors that were never guarded and along with a few others; he was the only person granted permission to be anywhere near her chambers. He pushed slowly down on the handle and cracked the door open slightly, slipping inside quickly and leaning back to shut it. The room was dim, the only light creeping through the heavy drapes that barred any air from coming into the room, it was stiflingly warm and it made him feel dizzy. He could only make out the shape of her lying on the couch and he drew nearer, sitting directly across from her on a plush Queen Anne chair. From what he could make out, she was wearing a white suit, which gave a glow to her face in the light. She, even in the dim light was eerily beautiful. She had curled her legs tight up to her body and her arms were wrapped around her own chest, almost hugging herself in sleep. Her hair was slightly messy, though not so much that she wasn't presentable. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, her breath soft as it escaped her mouth and he was enraptured by the beauty that seemed to glow from her, regardless of her cold manner.

She was beautiful and all the hate and jealousy he felt towards her subsided in that moment, if they were only to resurface themselves when she woke. She looked so frighteningly vulnerable, so child-like as she slept. It was something he wished he would see every day, wake to her lying beside him. Even in years gone past, he had hated her and loved her, all at the same time. He had wished he didn't love her, he had thought of quitting the job, settling down and marrying someone else who wanted him. But that would have been a lie, just as bad as the one he was living at the moment.

He stopped for a moment as she twisted slightly, and then settled herself again, not opening her eyes. He would stay until she did.

It was dark by the time Clarisse woke; she knew this only because her room had cooled down considerably. She didn't want to open her eyes, she wanted to stay there forever motionless but then she remembered Mia had come that day, it was past dinner and she had music to choose and umpteen papers to sign. She sat bolt upright, feeling extremely dizzy as she did so. She startled as she seen him sitting across from her, his head propped on his hand, his eyes following her every move and suddenly, she felt venomously angry. Her heart thudded violently in her chest as she glared at him. She wanted to kill him, for no reason other than she wanted him desperately - if he did not exist, if he had never been born, her life would be easier.

"How long have you been here?" she seethed, brushing her hair back from her face and making a bad attempt to straighten out the creases in her dress.

"Not long," he lied calmly.

"Well," she faltered, reining her temper in a little as if she realised her fault, "You had no right to be here".

"No," he shook his head, "Of course not but I wished to speak with you."

"Well, if you would kindly leave Joseph, I do not have the time for chit-chat just now", she said curtly, standing up and walking past his chair.

Not this time, he grabbed her roughly by the wrist, causing her to shriek slightly as he did so and twist her body round, so he was gripping her awkwardly as there eyes met. She was burning with anger and pain still lingered in her eyes from the immediate affects of his rough hold.

"You will listen to me", he growled, standing up. She shrunk away from him and for a moment, he realised the pain he inflicted upon her. He loosened his grip slightly, but not enough so it didn't hurt her.

"Please", she almost sobbed, "Please not now".

"Talk to me", he begged her, "Just talk to me".

She looked so angry; he wished he'd never been so forceful but something inside him - something so primal even he was afraid - had snapped inside him and he could no longer stand this coldness, the heartlessness.

"I will never speak to you, ever again!" she almost screamed, struggling as he held her against his body, his hand gripping her wrist tighter again.

"You will!" he whispered, reaching out in caress of her cheek. She did not struggle against him but allowed him to touch her as if fighting would be futile, as if she wanted it. Her eyes closed tightly, almost as if she was willing him away.

From behind her lashes, tears trickled down onto her burning cheeks. She felt utterly violated as they did so; she hated him for making her cry like this, for making her vulnerable.

"Clarisse", he whispered, finally letting go of her wrist, "Forgive me; I should never have done that to you".

She looked up finally, her eyes lifeless. Hat moment of affection was over and she missed him already but she was angry, beyond fathomable belief and she lashed out, her hand hitting his cheek with a vicious slap.

"Leave me!" she shrieked, "I will never speak to you again!"

He turned on his heels and wishing that the world would stop spinning made his way for the door. Before he left she shouted his name, alarmingly loud as she doubled over, using the back of the seat for support. He turned as she did and their eyes met again. Her face was blotchy with tears, hunched over in pain, she was a pitiful sight. But mercy, for the first time ever would not prevail in his heart. He could not wish to make her better, the anger was so overwhelming. He simply stood, and watched her.

"I missed you", she said quietly. He was momentarily shocked by her admittance, "I was lonely and tired."

There was a disgusting silence, worse than the silence that filled her endless nights.

"Lonely?" he questioned after what seemed like forever, standing where he was watching as each delicate tear trickled down her face.

"Lonely", she repeated, "So lonely".

" And who is to blame for that?" he questioned, almost mockingly. She looked up, her eyes still fiery with rage, "Tell me anyone but you is to blame for your loneliness, for your coldness!"

"I-" another violent sob shook her body, " I am".

" Of course you are!" he shouted, banging his fist against the table beside the door. The Ming vase came crashing to the floor, scattering lilies and spraying water everywhere.

" Of course it you damn fault Clarisse! If you would let someone in, let someone love…", he trailed off, looking up at her.

" I can give you nothing", she whispered, her voice calming perceptibly, " Nothing."

He sighed, turning and leaning against the wall, so far away from her that he couldn't hurt her anymore.

"That's what you think", he answered, "It's what you've always thought. Clarisse, don't you see how different you were, how we were?"

"When have I ever been different, when have we ever been such a thing?" she ordered in frustration, clenching her fists.

" California, you were a different person. All these years Clarisse, all these years I've loved you and you knew all along and suddenly, I seen a side of you I'd never seen before, someone who didn't care!"

" That was then, this is now!" she moaned, rubbing her forehead.

"Would you love me if you weren't queen?" he suddenly questioned, staring so deftly into her eyes it unnerved her.

"Yes", she whispered softly, " I always would".

_Well, there y'all are. I wanted to leave it on that because I felt it was good to leave a sort of cliff hanger._

_Well, it's my logic anyway! Please R&R. Good to know I can still entertain. Chap.3 soon._

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	3. Chapter 3

_Warning: Please, before you read this chapter be aware it has some very sensitive and descriptive things in it that may upset you, heed my warning that it contains things that may upset you, please! Not of a sexual nature, but of a sad one. _

_Does not belong to me, Meg Cabot and Disney and associates own this._

The walls seemed to be closing in on him; the world seemed to be spinning at an unbearable pace. His world was dissolving around him and it left nothing for him to cling to. He staggered from her room, watching her as he stumbled backwards, running way from what hurt so much. He could hear her faintly murmuring his name but could not hear her, he could here her sobs but could pay no attention.

He didn't know quite what to do, so he ran to his room, retrieved a jacket and the keys for his car and left the palace. He sped out of the grounds, wishing she was dead, wishing he had never existed, for the sake of her.

The roads were wet and he was being reckless. He had never cried before, but he could not resist the emptiness that filled him. He despaired so terribly, because she had told him so. She had told him she loved him. And her words stayed in his mind, the 'If only' the finality of her words.

The vision of her, hunched over, her face a portrait of unbearable pain, her words strained but admissibly aggressive.

He had been unbearably stupid, because he knew these roads intimately and yet, he insisted on going at a terribly quick speed. He played the music so loud; it was like white noise in his ears.

He had no time to pull the break as the Ferrari skidded on the roads and if he had, he would have plummeted off the cliff. It collided so violently with the other car he was thrown from the safety of his seat and onto the grimy roads, covered in rain and blood. Blood splattered on the roads, mixing with the water and rain. He could taste it in his mouth, feel the hot burning of a wound in his side and head.

Before he blacked out, the only light from his head lights 30 feet away, he seen her and he regretted it all, apart from the love. He loved her.

_Sorry, I had to._

_More to come_

_Please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	4. Chapter 4

_None of this belongs to moi, it's all property of those lovely rich people mentioned in Chapters before!_

_Thanks for all the reviews, I love you guys!_

She recovered herself, feeling even emptier than before - if that was humanely possible. She gathered up her self-esteem and proceeded to run a bath and pour herself a large glass of wine.

She divested herself of her crumpled suit and climbing over the edge of the monstrous tub, sunk deep into the roasting water. She pulled her head under, letting the scolding water chase the tension away from her muscles. She stayed under for as long as she could, she deprived herself of oxygen to see how far she could push herself. She resurfaced again, gasping for breath, her thoughts still blundering over their conversation. They were two fully grown adults, why couldn't they conduct themselves like so. She couldn't quite believe she had slapped him so forcefully, so venomously.

She breathed in deeply and took a gulp of the wine, allowing the smell of the bubble-bath to clog her over-worked mind. She didn't want to know where he had gone; she wanted him dead because of this. Because he loved her, what a horrible desire, how wretched to wish someone dead because they adored you, and even worse you returned the ludicrous sentiment!

If he had never existed, her life would be fine. She would survive in her loveless world, functioning robotically, living her mundanely rigid days without the slightest hint of emotion shining through her veneer of iciness.

She could still hear the snarl in his voice, the horrible growl that he had never used on her before that evening. She had pushed him to the edge, to breaking point; she had tested him to see how long it would take. She was fearfully cruel in that respect but for all she desired and loved him more than anything on the planet, she detested him.

A solitary tear tricked down her cheek and she wiped it away roughly, taking a massive gulp of the wine again. She felt slightly hazy, as if in front of her was a misty film. She let the tears fall again and did not stop them. For just a moment, she wanted to be free of this skin, this shroud. She wanted to fly, to be free to go wherever she desired and love whoever and whenever she chose. She wanted to stop this unforgiving coldness, the evil hardness that prohibited her. She wanted to love him, hell, she loved him more than her life.

She wanted to scream, and she did. A painful, throat-ripping scream tore from the back of her throat and echoed round the marble walls, bouncing back and piercing her ears. No one would come to her, for as her suite was sound proofed, it made no difference. She screamed until it hurt, until her throat burned. She loved him, she loved him. It was all of this, all of this that prevented her from opening up to him.

Why was it so impossible for her! Again, she sipped the syrupy liquid, she closed her eyes and imagined him. The way he would feel to kiss, the way her body would feel cradled next to his. She was unable to do this any longer, to fight him. She wanted so desperately to give in, to love him.

She could think no longer, her mind was so frayed with pain. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her body grow that limp way in the freezing bath water. She dropped the glass suddenly and it smashed onto the white tiles and the wine, like blood spread onto the floor in a ghastly puddle and seeped into the grout of the tiles. She startled and a feeling of nervousness came over her, as if something was not quite right, as if something had went terribly wrong. She dismissed it with a sense of unease and clambered out of the bath, wrapping a soft towel around her shivering body.

She walked past the wine and shattered glass and climbed into her bed, leaving the bath still full and the suite in the general mess it had become in the last few hours. A concoction of the exhaustion of her mind and the numbing of the wine put her to sleep as soon as she slipped between the silk sheets.

He was vaguely aware of being hoisted up, a fantastic amount of commotion ensuing around him. His eyes kept sliding shut and he couldn't fight the battle to stay awake. Through his soaking clothes, he could feel the hot spurting of blood from what he assumed was a wound in his side. A paramedic, who's face was blurred by the blood in his eyes was muttering incoherently to him in a feeble attempt to keep him awake. Dangerously, the ambulance swerved around a corner and he felt momentarily invigorated but then, the dull feeling of languid sleep came over him and his eyes slid shut. He fought it but it was over powering and again, he slipped into darkness.

_Please review!_

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	5. Chapter 5

Charlotte pondered nervously, viciously chewing at her bottom lip as she sat in her office, the sun was just rising over the grounds and it could be no later than 4am. She clicked her pen, twirling it in her hand as she mulled her options over. She knew of their relationship, she knew that they were more than close yet; she had never had solid evidence to conclude such notions. She sighed loudly and chewed aggressively on her bottom lip again, how could she possibly, nonchalantly announce to the Queen that her best friend and rumoured lover was in a critical condition? Even in her own head, without being voiced it sounded ludicrous.

She leaned forward and rested her head on the cool wood of the desk, outside of her office she could hear the secretive shuffles of people who had heard what had happened and had set about sorting things. No doubt she would be ordered to control the mayhem that would ensue from such a catastrophe. And it was exactly that, a catastrophe. How was this place going to function without him, how would Charlotte deal without Joe? How would the queen?

She was already in a foul mood; she had yet to even greet the Princess, who seemed in utter bewilderment as to why. And of course, it wasn't top-secret that obviously she and Joseph had words previously, countless people had seen him storming to his car and now, he was near dead. She shook her head and lifted it from the desk, what a catastrophe indeed. She knew of course, she had drawn the short straw in the palace; she was forever embroiled in the on going fight between the two. She had witnessed their most violent arguments, the viciousness of the queen, the almost violent temper that Joseph possessed.

She sighed and went to the door, there was no point on dwelling on the pettiness of two adults who denied themselves exactly what they wanted, and she'd had enough of that with her parents. However, she did have things to dwell over. She had to get security sorted out for a start, then deal with normal things before she told the queen. Already, she knew this coming morning, the approaching weeks too, would be no more pleasant than the weeks before.

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Clarisse woke, tangled in the silk sheets of her bead, sweat clinging to her forehead. For blissful seconds, her mind was closed and cleansed until the events of the previous night, never mind the previous year came back to her. She prised her eyes open, which were already threatening to tear and resolutely sat up, rubbing her forehead with a hand. The maids had been in; she could see and had left breakfast on the table. She felt somewhat embarrassed; they had cleaned up the broken vase and flowers and no doubt had cleaned up the mess on the bathroom floor also. She looked at the clock and realised that it was later than normal for her to rise and immediately, panic rose within her. Always so much to do and never enough time to do it in. She groggily lifted herself up, feeling exceedingly weak as she did. She showered, dressed applied her makeup and was ready an hour later - she didn't eat the breakfast. In her head she made a list of the thousand of things she was intending to do, firstly, was to see Mia who she had rudely, unkindly and no doubt hurtfully avoided since she'd arrived yesterday. Then, no matter how much she didn't want to, she had to talk with him about security arrangements. Then, everything else had to be done.

She sighed at her reflection in the mirror. She was getting old and it did not sit well with her. The lines around her eyes were noticeable so much more and she frowned, which was interesting because they were far more prominent. She huffed slightly and turned from her mirror.

She walked briskly out of the suite, straightening up and gathering dignity as she swept out the door.

She noticed, as she proceeded along the corridor that the palace was eerily empty. No one was humming to themselves while cleaning the overly polished marble floors, in fact there was no one working at all. Again, that horrible sense of unease returned to her and crawled over her skin. She tried to shake it away and continued down the silent corridor.

When she entered her office, only Charlotte was there which was unusual for a Monday morning. Usually half of the parliament and staff were there with the silliest problems or questions. But only charlotte sat in the chair next to the desk and for all of that, she was looking terribly pensive. Clarisse noticed but in all honesty had no time or energy to inquire as to what made Charlotte look so terrible. However, Clarisse had barely closed the door when Charlotte stood up and addressed her, her voice urgent.

"Charlotte?" Clarisse was slightly startled and looked at the young woman with a berating frown.

"Your Majesty!" charlotte stuttered slightly "Your Majesty something- last night - Joseph, was in an accident."

Charlotte's shoulders slumped and Clarisse let out a gasp, feeling considerably faint. She had to grab onto the back of the nearest chair for support. Fear filled her body and she wanted to die, in that moment, more than any time in her life. She could hear Charlotte continuing to say things, things that she could not make out because her hearing seemed to be impaired by pain. She had wished him dead and now, she had the most horrific feeling he was dead. She could barely move but somehow she managed to sit herself down and curl over her own body, hanging her head down. She was aware of Charlotte watching her but she couldn't bring herself to look up, she could simply ask what had happened or she could allow herself to float in this limbo. She finally, after what seemed like an eternity lifted her head, the tears trickling down her cheeks and looked at Charlotte. Charlotte was chewing nervously at her lip, her eyes drowsy and tired looking.

"Is he dead?", Clarisse blurted it out before she could compose herself and it formed as a whimper when it emerged.

Charlotte shook her head and again, Clarisse sagged into the chair, tears flooding her.

"Leave, me", she whispered, not taking her eyes from her lap, "Please Charlotte".

Charlotte nodded slightly, studying the Queen for one last time before she quickly made her way out of the office, feeling slightly relieved, after all the hardest part was over and in her mind, she'd got off lightly.

Clarisse could not control the tears flowing down her face, painful sobs shook her body and she felt uncomfortably breathless. She was relieved, if not terribly guilty, she was relieved. He was not dead, though she did not know what condition he was in. because she had not allowed Charlotte time to explain. Oh, poor Charlotte! How cruel she had been to her, the young girl had looked terribly unwell and Clarisse hadn't cared at all, how unlike this she was. Usually, she would have felt the utmost concern.

She shook her head and stood up, brushing creases from the front of her dress. She was so confused, what should she do now? She didn't have the energy to work, or see Mia. She stood in front of her desk, fingering the bundles of papers absently and decided what she would do, though she didn't know how to escape the palace without security.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry about the delay, I was in Sicily which was fun, and tomorrow I go to Italy for a week to see some friends. So this is hopefully, going to be one of the two chaps. I post today. However I'm not promising a second one totally. Nothing belongs to me, you know. Meg Cabot, Disney; all the usual suspects. _

She did not don a disguise, that was not her style. If she chose to leave the palace, she would do it brazenly. She pulled on the woollen coat Pierre had sent for her birthday and a flowery silk scarf that went everywhere with her, and for a moment she could not remember who had bought her it. It was soft on her hands, and for the first time she realised how it felt, suddenly all her senses had been heightened.

She shook the idea away and retrieved her car keys from her bottom drawer on her dresser. She had never known why she kept them hidden there; it meant nobody could ever take the car away from her. Even in her mind it sounded absurd but truly, it wasn't. She had owned the car for years, in fact if she remembered it correctly she had begged Rupert to buy her it and reluctantly, he had.

She made her way down to the garages at the end of the palace grounds, the cold rain beating down on the umbrella she had lifted before she had quietly left through the back doors of the kitchens. The rain was heavy and icy and she felt small, so small against the almighty power of the weather that even she could not control.

The garage handle was rusty, haven't not been moved for years and with the umbrella handle lodged ungracefully under her chin she pulled with all her might at the rotting handle. It scraped eventually and the door, stiff with age opened slowly. She hadn't driven the car for years, what felt like forever. It was a Mercedes, a nice car that looked classy but not overly portentous. It was old however, and she suddenly realised it may not start.

From her hand bag, she produced the keys and opened the shiny black door. Even though the car was not used, it was looked after by one of the valets - she had made sure of that. Inside, it smelled slightly damp and the leather interior was cold to sit on.

She waited no longer, not caring if she was breaking Joseph's policy, if she was breaking his heart. The car revved and she was gone.

0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o

She knew she was callous, she was well aware she was heartless and cold. She was aware her hardness made people flinch; she was aware that she loved him and loathed him. On the cliff, with the wind whipping so hard at her face it tingled, all of the pressed upon her like a dreadful weight. The thrashing sea below her, crashing onto the rocks was enticing- not for the first time in her disturbing life. A woman, her age contemplating suicide seemed bizarre but not when it was at the back of her mind all the time. Tears burned on her swollen face, her hand clenched and unclenched at her sides her body rocked against the strong wind. How undignified, how insane she had become. She loved him, so much and it screamed inside her head and if it had not been for what she had allowed all those years ago, she would want him just as much. Their affair, long and drawn out and time consuming had ruined him for her and now they hated each other.

He had held her so roughly, so tightly so frighteningly. It was not the first time she had slapped him but never once had he held her so roughly. She had been twisted, she pushed him to the point were his cool temper failed him.

She remember she had screamed in his face all those years ago and then he had grabbed her, made love to her, and she allowed it, as much as the guilt she felt was overwhelming. It was all too intense, all too much to let go on forever. So they stopped abruptly but it had not been enough, It was never enough. She always screamed at him because he made her feel so inadequate, so undeserving of all his attention.

It was what she had always done, anyone who loved her, she ruined, Her parents, Pierre, Philippe and soon, she would chip him down too and then, he would give up and she could go on living her cold life. That was what she wanted. She sighed and retreated back from the cliff edge, because the wind was getting stronger and she did not want to go over the edge, she had fallen a long time ago.

Yours,

M

Xx

Oh, please review.


	7. Chapter 7

_None of this belongs to me; Meg Cabot and Disney own it though_

Her clothes were damp, and she sat parked on the side walk for a good thirty minutes trying to warm up and get her self together. The heater of the car hummed, and she looked at the people, rushing past the window as wet blurs of speed shielding them selves from the cursed rain. Opening the door, she breathed in the sharp air and gracefully stepped pout of the car, locking it behind her as she shielded herself with the umbrella.

The hospital in the city of Pyrus was strangely quiet and the whiteness of the place made it unwelcoming. Some solitary nurses floated up and down the corridors but no one stopped to look at her because they were engrossed with the little work they had to do.

Directly in front of her, in the deserted reception was a desk, with a young girl sitting behind a cheap tabloid, engrossed. Clarisse stood patiently for some time, her head bowed just in case she was to attract the attention she so wanted to avoid. She grew impatient and tapped her manicured fingers on the polished surface. The girl, with a huffy sigh looked over her paper and appeared to startle for a moment. She was recognisable alright.

"Joseph Cruz", she muttered before the girl could speak at all, "Quickly", she ordered forcefully.

"Ah- err," the girl blundered as she fiddled with the key board of the computer, "Room 201, Your -"

"Enough", Clarisse said quietly, interrupting her, "Please".

She smiled slightly, her face cold and hard and then studied the signs on the walls, finding "Rooms 200 -220", she followed the direction.

The corridors were quiet, a few open ward doors, a few doctors on rounds, a few radio's playing the Genovian station. The hospital made her skin crawl; she hated the smell of bleach and did not allow the vile stuff to be used to liberally in the palace. She felt unclean already, as if someone had infested her skin.

Room 201 was right at the end of the whitewash corridor, far away from the realness of disease.

She stood outside and looked at the white door, inside he was laying, near dead and all of that, in its severity was vile. He was dying, she was dead. It did not matter; she did not matter because she felt nothing. She pushed the door and it was unbelievably heavy under her hands, it seemed it took forever to open.

He was lying on the bed and the sight did nothing to her, she was surprised that tears did not rush to her eyes, that rage did not fill her heart. All she felt was infinite pity and unquenchable guilt. On the bed was a mangled man, his head bandaged, his face bruised and bloodied. Tubes and wires were ribbons from his body, with each struggling breath monitor bleeped recognition of his struggle.

In the corner, there was a chair and she moved to sit, without taking her eyes from the gruesome sight, suddenly it occurred to her, she was a murderer - even if he was not dead.

For hours, she sat motionless. Her clothes were dry but smelled awful, her face was tight and sore, and her head was thumping. She thought about everything, about him about how he felt underneath her hands all those years ago, how he had not changed at all. He had only become angry, harder, colder. He had to match up with her, to compete with her. She started to shiver and tears, long over due began to gurgle from her tired eyes. From the back of her throat, a strangled sob wretched and echoed around the room. He had not woken and he would not wake and if he did, he would never forgive her.

"Don't!" she looked up, and again, a sob escaped without permission. This time, his eyes, cold and lifeless sprung open.

"I said "Don't!" he growled, with a shocking amount of strength, "Do not cry over me!" abruptly, she stopped and ceased to shake. Across the room, there was huge square window and weakly she lifted herself from the chair in silence and came to stand before it. While she moved, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her back.

Out on the street, she noticed there were few people now and she understood why ; when a huge torrent of rain beats down on our shoulders, we cower, we hide we do not face what might hurt us. The silence that ensued was painful enough to kill her. She could feel his eyes on her back but she did not turn, out of shame she could not.

"It's raining", she whispered, "It's dreary".

"I see that", he answered, "I see you".

"There's no need to see me", she chocked, not turning from the window.

"I see you are killing yourself, I see that one day you'll fall and then, you won't be able to get up anymore! I see -"

"Please!" she begged, his words tearing her apart, "Don't say this to me".

"I won't tell you what you want to here anymore", he sighed, almost sadly," Because you are dragging me down with you".

"I drag you, because I need you", she sobbed, almost inaudibly.

"I love you so much Clarisse!" he cried out, "But let me, for all that's on this earth, let me hold you!"

"It's not so easy!" she nearly screamed, swivelling on her heels to face the bed, "It's not that easy!"

"Stop shouting", he said, "It will attract attention".

"I don't care anymore!" she screamed, "I don't care about anything because you fill my thoughts all the time, every second and it's wrong!"

"For a night, 20 years ago you saw nothing wrong with it!"

She looked at him and then hung her head.

"I've lived with the guilt of that for too long, Joseph!"

"Oh, please Clarisse". He said viciously, "If he had cared, he would have said something - if he had loved you, he wouldn't have screwed every other girl in Genovia!"

"I know all that!" she screamed, "I know that."

"Well, don't us e the guilt card my dear, because you're too old for that!"

"I want you so badly! Don't you see that but how can I bring you into this world, it will stifle you like it stifled me!"

"No it wouldn't, because I know that inside you, inside that dark heart there's a woman worth loving, that's the only reason I've stayed all these years! And you know what, I'll always stay because I can't survive without her, because she's what I get up for in the morning - even if she doesn't show her face that day!" he was almost crying now, his voce straining but he continued,

"I think she's dead but, if I could see that women I spent that night with 20m years ago, I'll live another 20 without her".

"I'm not her anymore", she sighed.

"It can't be helped, we grow, we change - and some of us buckle under pressure, some of us want the thing we can't have most", he whispered, staring at the ceiling, "and I'll never stop wanting you".

"And, I you", she admitted, "I love you, I desire you more than anything else in the whole world - but it's not enough to stop me hurting you!"

"You've never hurt me Clarisse", he answered, softly, "Only yourself, then you hurt me because I watch you suffer, you deny yourself what you want, you deny me what I want".

She looked at him and in a moment, she had moved from the window to the side of the bed. She had thrown herself onto him, her lips crashing onto his, her tears covering his face.

"I can't deny you, I won't, not any more", she sobbed as she covered his face in kisses, "Because I've killed you, I've reached the bottom with you".

_Please review!_

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks for my reviews! This is fluffy, which I like writing. None of this is my property; Meg Cabot and Disney all own this._

She did not lift her body from his, she half lay, half stood over his body with her head resting on his heaving chest. He stroked her hair weakly and she continued to cry and cry until the tears ran out and then she sobbed dryly, because the feeling of relief was so unreal.

"Clarisse", he whispered softly, after some time of silence, "I'm glad you came here". She raised her head, but with one hand still clung to his bed sheets. Her face was sore looking, red and swollen from crying. The blue of her eyes was more outstanding in contrast with the bloodshot whiteness of them. She had aged terribly; she looked so much more than her 53 years.

"In the palace, they will be searching for me", she whispered absently, looking at him as she dabbed her face with her handkerchief.

"Well, now", he smiled slightly, "I didn't think you had come her with Security's permission".

She laughed slightly, "Security, for me was lying in a hospital bed and I had to get to him".

He smiled softly, as if her words had raised a feeling in him that was utterly new. He raised his hand and reached out for her. She walked over, taking his hand in hers. He was cold.

"I love you", she whispered, "It hurts because I love you so much sometimes. Am I making any sense?"

Again, he smiled and gripped her hand tighter - pulling her and motioning for her to sit on the edge of the bed. She did so, awkwardly. He sat up in the bed, with more strength that she had thought he really had. He made himself in a comfortable sitting position, wincing slightly. Once he had, he motioned for her to lie across his chest and wearily, she did.

It felt good to be close to him, because she was not prepared to fight it anymore.

"Those words mean more than anything to me in the world", he answered after a while, "Because you and I are such similar creatures - and we need each other to survive".

She kissed his chest, and looked up.

"I hated you", she said suddenly, "Because you exposed me so effortlessly and you know how to please me and you know how to hurt me and you know which buttons to push. You know me so well, I want to crawl under your skin and see myself from your perspective. You know how to control me and that scares me, Joseph".

"I love you Clarisse", he said softly, but with authority "and I have no desire to hurt you".

"I don't mean it like that… I make no sense", she sighed, and "You know me so well, that I want you to go away so I don't have to face my faults".

"We all have faults", he whispered, stroking her hair again, "I lost my temper with you". She looked up quickly and frowned.

"I deserved that", she said, "I was cruel, I pushed you".

"I should not have lost my temper at you like that, because you are everything to me".

"I care little for that, I don't care what you done to me because I have done much worse to you", she paused and stroked his face with her hand, "I fantasise about you all the time, you know".

He looked at her strangely, questioningly.

"I want you so badly, I've never wanted that before apart from when you're near me".

"You could always have had me", he smiled, "I would have been open to any of your ideas or advances". For the first time in what felt like years, she laughed properly. Her eyes glittered and her face seemed younger.

"I know that much", she smiled, " But it's not about that, it's just about having you under my control and I could never do that because you cannot tame something that wants to make you wild can you?"

"I wanted to free you Clarisse", he smiled lovingly, "Not ruin you".

"I was - I am doing a good job of that myself", she said sadly, "But no, I won't do it anymore".

"No?"

"No, no because I'll begin feeling things again".

"I feel this", he smiled touching her face, her lips, "Always, if I close my eyes I can still feel your body against mine".

"Don't close your eyes, this is me -I'm real and I'm yours."

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

She left the hospital that evening, after a frazzled Shades had finally realised there was a chance she might be there. She kissed him goodbye, only on the cheek and left him, his hand lingering in hers till they could stretch no further.

In the limo to the palace, it occurred to her that she had abandoned part of her old self and that made her smile. She knew she had lots to do, she knew that when she got back to the palace she might have a mountain of endless paper work in front of her and a worried Charlotte to contend and console and a granddaughter she had ignored for two days to apologise to but it didn't seem to matter, or worry so much. She could not say she was elated, because that would be exaggerating but she certainly felt better.

The palace was quiet, and at the front steps there was only Charlotte and Amelia. Mia looked tired and worried, as did Charlotte. They rushed to meet her as she got out of the car as Shades pulled up behind her in the Mercedes.

"Charlotte", she spoke immediately, "I've been wicked to you for the lat few days, I apologise". Charlotte seemed startled by this revelation and somewhat embarrassed. She blushed and then, with a smile answered;

"Your Majesty, it's nice to see you again, safe. I must go arrange your dinner"

"That would be lovely Charlotte. Thank you". Again, her assistant smiled and made her way up the stairs.

"And my Mia", she turned to her granddaughter, who was standing with a bewildered, hurt look on her young face "I apologise for not seeing you but I was not in a fit state of mind, I wont lie to you".

Mia looked confused, but smiled slightly.

"Mia", she looked at her softly, "I buckle under pressure often, it is one of my faults".

"It's cool Grandma", Mia smiled, "And anyway, Lilly arrived this morning - I had her for company".

"Not the point", she stated, making her way up the stair and motioning for Mia to follow, "You're my grand daughter and I love you, and no matter how I feel you must come first".

"Wow Grandma", Mia laughed, "I like you, I was just worried about you!"

"I know", she smiled, "I know. Anyway, go entertain yourself with Lilly; I have no doubt a mountain of papers etc. to get through!"

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

In her office she read half of the bundle, with a cup of tea at her side. She was able to concentrate properly for the first time in months. Charlotte sat next to her, sorting and re-bundling and making memo's and notes.

"Your Majesty", she said after a while of silence, "it's your unofficial birthday the day before the inauguration ball, would you like something arranged to celebrate it?"

"No, Charlotte thank you ", she shook her head, "Not for my 54th birthday and anyway, then next day is the Ball and I must preside over that. I wish for a quiet birthday".

"Yes, Your Majesty" charlotte answered, attempting to stifle a yawn as she covered her mouth.

"Charlotte", Clarisse smiled, "Go to bed, take tomorrow off".

Charlotte looked up.

"Oh, you're Majesty, no!" she exclaimed, "I'll be fine".

"It's an order", she insisted, collecting up the papers, "I order you". Charlotte laughed slightly, bid her goodnight and then made her way out of the office.

For a while she sat, in the semi darkness of the cool office, thinking. The week ahead was busy; she knew it would be hectic. Between the inauguration ball and the beginning of the new parliamentary year, this week in the middle of July was always insistently busy. And the hope that Sebastian Motaz re-claimed the role of Primeminister was a constant worry, she could not contend with that snake Mabury triumphing.

But, she didn't want to worry so much, so she stood up and turned of the lights and made her way to her chambers, because things that would happen would happen, and when they did, he would be there beside her.

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_

_Please review!_


	9. Chapter 9

_I know that generally, someone who's been in a car crash is not allowed out this quickly, but you know artistic licence and all that. Nothing belongs to me, Meg Cabot and Disney own all that! "Auto-strade" is Italian, not a misspelling, Lol. This is only the end of part 1! More to come. _

. She had, as always phoned Sebastian to wish him luck at the poles. She had woken early and felt better for it, got dressed and continued to organise Saturday's ball before she had sat down in the office, ready to work.

She sat at her desk, listening to band selections for the ball, when Charlotte entered.

"Your Majesty?" she smiled.

"Charlotte?" she answered, looking over the rim of her glasses as she signed her name on a proposition for the building of a new community swimming pool and turned of the CD player which was playing a dreamy waltz.

"Your Majesty, Joseph will be coming home today". Charlotte looked somewhat pleased about this news, and Clarisse felt an unnecessary pang of jealousy.

"Has someone arranged transport for him?" she questioned, returning to the papers.

"Well, I assumed that that could be your decision Your Majesty", Charlotte answered weekly.

"Well, have Shades pick him up", she answered, looking up and then blatantly, "And tell Shades I will accompany him".

"Yes, Your Majesty", Charlotte answered, turning from the door.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

It was the middle of summer and the weather in Genovia, thought the last few days had been an exception, was usually blisteringly hot - today was not an exception. The thin material of her dress clung to her damp skin and her hat made her head too warm. Shades turned up the air conditioning in the limo but it was still unbearably warm. The streets were bustling and Clarisse knew that to go in the normal entrance to the hospital was asking for trouble. So Shades, being the protégé of Joseph had arranged for her to be escorted through a back entrance and her security to be meticulously scrutinised. She felt no safer than if she had been hanging of the edge of a cliff and she felt so stifled, t with the heat and the amount of bodies crowding around her as she made her way through the clinical corridors. The group attracted more attention than she would have alone, so she insisted they moved quickly.

Joseph had been moved to a quieter, more private part of the hospital and it seemed to take an age to get there. When eventually they arrived, she ordered Shades to wait for her outside of the room and quietly went in. he was sitting on the edge of the bed, the bandage removed from his head so she could see the wound that had been stitched up; it looked unbelievably painful. He was putting on his socks and shoes when he looked up, and smiled.

"What a pleasant surprise", he smiled, tying up his shoe, "I thought you would greet me at the palace".

"I decided to bring you home", she answered, moving towards him. He reached out for her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed the back softly. She closed her eyes and for a fleeting moment, forgot who she was. Then the touch was gone and he was looking up at her, with a look of wonder and terror in his eyes.

"I've just found you; I don't want to lose you". She looked at him strangely, wondering what prompted such admittance. She bent down, her lips close to his, her hands on his shoulders.

"Nor do I wish to lose you".

They rode together in the same limo, and in private as they had left the hospital, Joseph had severely reprimanded Shades for the unnecessary entourage he had insisted on accompanying the queen to the hospital with.

"It's warm, too warm", he stated as they sat in the grid-lock of cars on the Auto-strade, inching nearer and nearer the palace.

"It makes a change", she smiled, "Not a pleasant one, but a change from the dismal weather of the last few days".

He suddenly began to laugh, a hearty, wild laugh. She looked at him inquisitively, not understanding what was humorous about what she had said.

"What are you laughing at?" she demanded, staring at him. He continued to laugh, and his eyes watered.

"Joseph!" she demanded with frustration, "Tell me!"

"Listen to us, just listen!" he breather, looking at her, " Talking about the weather, one day together and already we're speaking about the most boring things!"

She began to laugh, and he took her in his arms to feel her body shaking against his. They sat for a while, calming down. He listened to her breathing, the way it relaxed and evened out as she relaxed against him in a more comfortable position. He held her against him.

"Tell me something about you, something no one else knows", she whispered into his ear.

"I would die for you", he answered simply. "I would kill for you".

"That's in your job description", she said matter of fact, "Tell me something that no one has the slightest idea of".

"I would kill for you and die for you because I love you, not because I get paid for it". She smiled and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"And you tell me something no one else knows."

"That you saved me, if it wasn't for you - I wouldn't be here".

"Hmm", he kissed her lips softly. It was strange, he had kissed her only once many years ago and yet it felt so familiar to demand that from her. She did not resist him, not like she would have weeks ago. She let him hold her, pressed against his body in the back of the cramped limo.

The traffic moved at snails pace and they talked about ordinary things, like how well the organisation of the ball was going and who they wanted to win the election. He made her laugh, she made him smile and she curled into him, and he held her hand and they felt inseparable.

_Please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_

_Thanks for the reviews!_

_BTW, not the end - just end of part 1!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you for my reviews, they were lovely! Enjoy! _

_Not mine, certainly not. They belong to Meg Cabot and Disney and their associates! Oh, also. I stole a line from Julie Andrews movie "Relative Values", which I love, because it's just adorable when she says it. Doesn't belong to me, belongs to ISLE of Man Film Commission and associates. As always, for me artistic licence with age!_

The week, leading up to the ball was hectic. She had, many a night spent her time signing papers, looking over election results and consulting specialists on what was the grandest ball after the annual Independence Day Ball. She had insisted, of course that he rest and so, the very few chances she had had to speak to him were rushed and usually their spectrum of conversation was entirely focused on security and such arrangements for the Ball.

She sat at her office desk, looking over her itinerary for the last few days which Charlotte had taken the initiative to draw-up. Having risen at 6am, it was now 8 and she hadn't stopped for a break since, she had and unbelievably large load of work ahead of her. Charlotte, who sat at her own desk, was writing furiously.

She startled as the phone on her desk, which hadn't stopped ringing all morning began its familiar song. She sighed and after a moment, lifted the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hello", the voice on the other end answered. She smiled to herself.

"Good morning".

"You know", he said, "I'm very bored cooped up in my bed with only Mrs Kowt to amuse me." She laughed slightly.

"It is what is necessary".

"Your Majesty", he answered, "Allow me to join Charlotte and yourself in the office; I would like to be useful".

"Joseph!" she ordered, "The doctor insisted you rest, your side is still sore!"

"I like pain!" he offered, smiling to himself. She laughed on the other end and backed down. If she was willing to be honest with herself, who she rarely was, she wanted to see him.

"If you must, if you are so bone-idle it is hurting you more, then by all means join us". He had dropped in to the office for a while, then excused himself to go and scrutinise Shades plans for the Ball.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

By the time lunch had come around, Charlotte conveniently made her excuses. Mia had arranged to spend the day with Lilly at the theme park and therefore required adequate security protection. So she was left in her office, signing the last of her papers and waiting for her lunch to arrive. Soon it did, however it was delivered by Joseph, rather than Mrs Kowt.

"Good afternoon".

"Hmm", she smiled, looking up from behind her desk, "It is indeed a good afternoon when you bring my lunch".

"Are you hungry?" he question setting the tray of soup and sandwiches for the two of them on the table.

"I am", she answered, waving the final paper in front of her as evidence, "So far this morning I have read and signed, 107 papers, contracts and documents. This is my 108th and then, I shall join you. It is hunger inducing work".

"I have no doubt, my dear", he laughed and then sat himself down at the table, "Tea, Clarisse?"

"Please", she answered, not taking her eyes of the paper, "How are you feeling?"

"I am good", he answered, bending awkwardly as he poured the tea, and at the pain in his side, taking a sharp intake of breath.

"So I see", she answered sarcastically.

"I am, just when I move sometimes", he argued setting himself down and slouching into a comfortable position.

"I see", she smiled, standing up from the desk and making her way to the table, sat down. Suddenly, she paused as she lifted a sandwich and a look of pain came over her face. He realised exactly what it was and he was stuck to help her. However, he did not blame her.

"You know, I was driving very recklessly on the road", he said slowly, lifting his coffee to his mouth and taking his sip.

She looked up and swallowed, then took a sip of her tea.

"I made you angry".

"I was driving like a maniac, Clarisse" he answered, with finality in his words, "I crashed because of my own lack of self-control, not because you had made me angry".

She smiled sadly.

"Come on", he said consolingly, reaching across the table to take her hand, "Some time together and we get all heavy like this. You see, I blame you for nothing."

"I know", she murmured, "Sorry".

"I love you, very much my dear" he smiled, lifting her hand and kissing her, "After all these years of wanting you, I shan't leave you over something as trivial as nearly killing me".

"Joseph", she cried, half laughing, half embarrassed.

"I mean you only slapped me, told me you loved but hated me and made me crash", he teased, "Who am I to get angry at you!"

"Joseph", she whined, an annoyed smiles on her face, "Stop!"

"Ok", he laughed, "I'm merely teasing you".

"I know!" she whined again, "But how horrid you are!"

"Horrid I am, blame you, I do not", he smiled; "Now my dear we should eat, or your soup will get cold, lunch will be over and you will have to get back to organising! "

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

After lunch though, the palace seemed to calm down slightly and it had begun to rain. It was summer rain, they type of rain that smelled wonderful. So she opened the French windows of her room and they sat curled up on the sofa.

Until the election results were through that evening, there was nothing much to be organised nor any details to be seen to. Everything had been organised. The catering, the flowers, the band selections, the place settings…

"We should, perhaps" he adjusted their sitting position on the couch so she leaned against him more, her head lying in his lap, his hands playing with her hair "Arrange something for your birthday, and you haven't celebrated your birthday for years".

"You remembered my birthday?" she questioned.

"Yes", he answered.

"How curiously humiliating" she said suddenly, "You know me so well and I hardly know you at all".

"Really? You shouldn't feel humiliated at that, we've just never had the time to speak, or the courage. It is my job to know everything about you".

"Why on earth not? I have known you for well over 30 years, yet I don't even know where you came from!"

"You know my birthday!" he admonished, "You see I'm here Clarisse, that's enough for me". He stroked her hair lovingly.

"We must begin now", she smiled, "Tell me about you - everything I don't know".

"I'm boring" he laughed.

"No, you are not", she smiled, "We have the entire afternoon in front of us, so tell me!"

"Tell me what you know about me first?"

"Well, you are Spanish. You were born on the 12 of June and you have seven brothers and sisters", she paused, "You know, I actually know a surprising amount about you".

He nodded his head and laughed, "And?"

"And you were in the Foreign Legion", she shivered, "Which is horrible, because you are too nice to be too violent".

"Thank you".

"And you suit black; I know you were considered a womaniser in your younger years by all the women in the palace who fawned over you"

"Yes", he smiled, "In my much younger years".

"I know you love me", she smiled.

"That's all you need to know about me", he whispered bending his head to kiss her, "I love you". She smiled against his lips. They broke the kiss and she rested her head back in his lap.

"Joseph?" she questioned.

"Do you want to make love?" He stared at her for a moment, as though he was shocked by her question.

"Well, no", he answered, "Because from such a question, I get the feeling it's certainly not what you want and I do not wish to rush you".

"Oh, no!" she protested, sitting up, "No! I will, I mean I want to - just not right away". She ran her hand down his face.

"Last time", she continued quietly, "I wanted you so badly but it was so intense, so frantic that I felt terrible after it. I had cheated on Rupert; I knew that we could go nowhere so I had used you I had promised you something I could not give you at the time. But now I can and I don't want it to feel like we have to, because we don't. I want it to be slow and real for us, not a passing moment that we might have to cling onto for the next 20 years because we can't bear to look at each other".

"Wise words", he smiled," Which I agree with entirely".

"Really?" she laughed, "You see, your reputation of a Casanova has somewhat proceeded you"

"Palace gossip, hmm?"

"Yes", she smiled, "But I refuse to believe you're such a Romeo!"

"Oh, my dear" he laughed, "You do not remember, was it not so memorable!"

"Oh, yes" she turned red and giggled slightly.

"Well then!" he kissed her forehead softly, "You must take no one else's opinion as Gospel and simply refer to your memory!"

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Yours,

M

Xx

Please R&R!


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for all my reviews, lovely of you guys! Disney, Meg Cabot own all these, I just get to twist them…._

She woke on the Friday, her birthday, extremely early. She lay for a while, the silk sheets clinging to her body, even though the air-conditioning had been on full all night. She felt dreadfully languid and she was acutely aware that that feeling was not suited to the day ahead. Nor was it like her to feel so utterly lazy. She rolled over and huffed slightly, then lifting herself out of the bed, made her way to the bathroom.

An hour later, she emerged from her suite. She was well aware it was her birthday but she wanted no-one else to be aware of that fact. She was always glad that every four years the elections fell on her unofficial birthday and it over shadowed it quite suitably. She had always loathed birthdays. It was because with each one that passed, as well as losing another year to her lonely life no one chose to celebrate it quietly and from the day she had come onto the planet, she had never been allowed to just have a small gathering. Her 34th had been terrible and she had never celebrated the passing of another birthday since.

However, that was not to dwell on and she made her way to her office, where Charlotte was waiting and sat down to her schedule. However, she noted that it had changed since yesterday.

"Charlotte?" she questioned, re-reading the list.

"You're Majesty?" Charlotte smiled, looking up from whatever document she was studying.

"Charlotte" she answered, "I do not remember that on the sheet there was a dinner with the Prime minister tonight".

"Well, Your Majesty" Charlotte turned slightly red, "I forgot, well with all that's happened to Joseph and such, the traditional dinner".

"Oh, yes of course Charlotte!" she exclaimed, "I had quite hoped that was a tradition that had been dropped this year! However, I must say Charlotte that is not like you to be so careless."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty!" Charlotte implored, "I've had so much to do!"

"Oh! My dear! How cruel of me, I tend not to think of you!" she said suddenly, apologetically, "I should have expected the dinner tonight, I have been in this job for long enough!"

"It's OK", Charlotte said quickly, quietly, "It's fine really."

"Well, Charlotte now I have completely made a fool of myself in front of the best assistant I've ever had" she laughed, "What are the arrangements for this evening?"

"Yourself and the re-elected Mr. Motaz at the Grand Royal. 7.30 For 8.00".

"Well, it does not sound so bad", she mused picking up a piece of pedantic legislation, "Sebastian is rather good company".

"Anod your Grandaughter, your Majesty?" Charlotte questioned, taking notes down on a pad.

"Oh no!" she smiled, "My grand daughter would be positively bored to death!"

No quicker had she finished her words when her office door burst open and her grand daughter bounced in, with her best friend quickly at heel.

"Well, good afternoon Amelia", she smiled setting down the paper; "Nice to see you know how to knock and be told that you may come in!"

"Yeah, forgot that", her grand daughter blushed considerably.

"Well, my dear" she smiled again, "You must not allow such a lapse of memory again."

"Of course not", her grand daughter agreed sarcastically, setting herself down on the couch "Anyhow, Grandma, what you up to tonight?"

"Dinner" Clarisse answered, returning to signing the paper, "With Sebastian Motaz".

Lilly made a face and then continued to lounge on a queen Ann chair in the office.

"Why?" Mia questioned, fiddling with the pairs in the arrangement on the table.

"Well, it is tradition of course", she answered, sitting back in the chair and rubbing the bridge of her nose, "For, oh how many years I don't know but in years gone past it was to allow the royal family to get to know the Prime minister, who would of course had to support them in everything they decided."

"I get it", Mia answered, "It's like when you know, you suck-up to someone!"

"Well, if you choose to put it that way…" She looked at her grand daughter disapprovingly, and then stood up "However, Amelia it is part of the job, one that is indeed necessary and anyway. Why on earth are you remotely interested in what I'm doing this evening?"

"Because", Mia shrugged, "Just wondered".

"Well, was there something you had arranged?"

"Nope".

"Ok, are you staying here fro lunch?" she questioned, moving to stand in front of Mia as she stood, "Because you can, with Lilly if you wish."

"Really, Grandma" Mia smiled, then planted a kiss on her cheek; "I'll be seeing ya!"

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

After lunch, when the palace was generally quite calm she decided to wander the gardens. The sun, because it was high noon burned the back of her neck but she was quite content to move among the rose gardens, her thoughts entirely her own.

She reconsidered her thoughts that morning and decided that her 34th birthday had not been so terrible after all, just life changing.

Rupert, being the loveable but stupid man that he always had been had insisted on her having a birthday party. She was not entirely against the idea just not totally for it. She was never easily enthused by such meandering; it seemed pointless celebrating another year closer to death. However, she had given in after he had niggled at her for months and allowed him to throw her a ball. It transpired to be the most stupid idea that had ever entered his mind - it was the night Rupert lost her.

She had argued with him in his office after the ball over a petty comment he had made to Lord Hawthorn while she danced with someone. However, perhaps that evening she had been looking to pick a fight with him because he upset her so much in general with the way he strutted around the palace. She cried, as always and ran to the gardens where she found Joseph and not for the first time she was drawn to him, his looks, and his power.

They had sat for hours and hours, then they went to her room, where he wished her goodnight but he did not leave till the next morning.

She regretted it, even now, standing among the mauve coloured roses, she regretted it. Not him, she did not regret him but she regretted the action that had caused them so much pain over the years. She could, if she closed her eyes feel his body against him, his breath on her and the fact that all the while, all she wanted was more of him. Not Rupert, not even her precious boys meant more to her than him in that moment. And then, it had been over and she could not look him in the face because she had betrayed her family, her country and most of all, him.

She had given herself to him, merely for hours and then drew away, ashamed and shy and left him with nothing, not a word, not a whisper of the events. She had decided, in her naive and torn mind to pretend they never happened. Though sometimes over the years, she had withdrawn them from her memory to see if they had faded or disappeared. They had not, they would not, and they never could because she loved him.

_Well yeah, sort of boring but it was necessary._

_Please R&R._

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xxx_


	12. Chapter 12

_Wow, I have to apologise for the horrific punctuation/grammar and vicious spelling in the previous chapter. I hade been out with the boyfriend and then hade returned home and written that at 1 in the morning, which is not an excuse just a reason for my lack of concentration! So, I'm sorry! None of this belongs to me, it belongs to Meg Cabot and Disney and their friends. Chanel's not mine either; I think it belongs to Coco Chanel._

The evening was considerably sultry, the heat seeping into her room even though the windows were closed and the air-conditioning was on. She felt flustered and dismissed her maids after a while because she could not bear to have anyone near her in such abysmal heat. She sat down for a moment and realised for the first time that day that Pierre had not called to wish her a Happy Birthday, which was entirely unlike him. He usually would call in the morning, before he had to lecture in the college in the Vatican.

She had not seen him since his brother's funeral, when she had little time for him anyway. She shook her head softly, sighing to herself. She decided, considering the situation and the coming evening which required her to be _The Queen, _she could not get emotional. It was not needed, it was unnecessary. So recalling strength which only she possessed, she closed down her feelings and banished her sons face from her mind.

She was ready quicker than she expected, wearing a simple black and white jacket with a sweet-heart neck line, a soft black skirt with white piping around the hem and new white and black shoes, she looked decidedly classy. She applied her make-up, fished her pearls from her extremely unorganised jewellery box and was ready to go. Of course, she had overlooked to check who was travelling with her, if Joseph had the night off or as she hoped, he would be accompanying her.

In her new shoes, which clicked on the marble of the halls with a staccato beat, she leisurely made her way to the foyer of the palace. It was near empty, spare the ever buzzing security desk at which sat behind Antoine and Shades, studying monitors while Joseph leaned over them, from the front, studying papers and giving her a deliciously voyeuristic view of his rear. Aware that no one was paying much attention to her, she paused for better admiration and found herself quite shocked at her own actions. Snapping out of the part of her that wanted to devour him, she started to walk to the desk and at the clicking of her heels, Shades and Antoine quickly stood up and Joseph turned, a smile on his face.

"Your Majesty", he clicked his heels and bowed.

"Joseph", she held out her hand which he kissed automatically, as was custom.

"I assume I am to travel with you this evening?" she questioned, straightening up her jacket and wrapping a large woollen shawl around her shoulders. For all it was warm, the night would soon grow cold.

"Indeed", he smiled, "Along of course with Shades and Antoine".

She smiled at the young men, standing behind the desk and then turned to him.

"Must they come, are they really necessary - perhaps they deserve the night off", she smiled at the two young men sweetly. They smiled back, with a thankful but wistful smile.

"You pay them for what they do", he answered, moving her towards the door with his hand at the small of her back, "And yes, they are very necessary".

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Did I tell you?" he questioned, whispering in her ear as the partition before them rose up, "You look lovely this evening?"

"No" she smiled, "Thank you, however".

"Yes, quite lovely".

"And you", she continued, resting her hand in his between them on the seat, "You look very, cool, is that what I say? Or I could be un-cool and say you look extremely handsome".

He looked down at his attire, true he looked more casual than usual. He was wearing a black shirt, no tie, an Armani suit and black shoes but nothing that could be commented on.

"And you smell quite lovely" she continued, looking out the window suddenly as she felt her face burning, what possessed her to mention the way he smelled! She would be perpetually embarrassed. She had been so engrossed in how he looked and smelled she sounded like she was an idiot but truly, he smelled wonderful.

He laughed slightly, amused by her embarrassment and moved toward her. He bent his face down to her neck, placing a soft kiss on her collar bone.

"You smell much better than I do" he whispered, "Or am I just insane, maybe you only smell that way because I love you".

"Impossible!" she laughed, swatting his knee, "its Chanel No. 5!"

"No", he smiled, "You smell like love".

"That's impossible". She protested, "Love cannot smell!"

"It does", he laughed, "It smells like you to me!"

"You're far too sentimental" she scolded lovingly, "You must not be so sentimental, you will make me that way!"

"And would that be so bad, Clarisse?" he questioned, his tone changing abruptly form mirth to seriousness.

"No", she whispered, "I suppose it would not."

He kissed her then and she fell back on the seat.

"I have something for you", he whispered, his lips floating enticingly over hers. He reached down to the floor of the limo and produced a gift bag.

"You shouldn't have".

"I wanted too", he smiled, handing her the little pink bag. Inside there was a velvety bag under crepe paper. She fished it out, with no more than a calm display of eagerness. Inside there was a watch, simple but stunning none the less. Silver, it glinted in the dull light of the limo as she studied it. It was a Rolex, expensive no doubt, but something he could afford none the less.

"It's beautiful", she whispered, "So pretty".

"It's nothing audacious", he smiled.

She studied it more carefully, noticing the engraving on the back of the watch face which was so small, it was barely readable.

"_Everything has its time. Love, J."_

She felt the tears spring to her eyes but she willed them back successfully. Oh! She clenched the fist of her free hand and refused herself to cry, these days she was becoming far too sentimental and it did not sit well with her.

"You really shouldn't -", she said weakly and them touched his face with her hands, "Too much time".

"Never enough".

She smiled and with a flourish he offered to put the watch on for her, she made a resolution that she would never take it off.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The Grand Royal Hotel and Restaurant in the centre of Pyrus was one of the few hotels not owned by the Von Troken's. When she had to organise meetings and lunches and dinners, instead of the palace she often organised a private dining room here because the food was wonderful and the staff were extremely co-operative. Of course, she knew that outside - considering the general buzz the election caused and the traditional Royal dinner - the press would be there. She had not however, considered the numbers that might indeed be their and realised as soon as they pulled up it was much more than she had expected. Before she was even allowed to move out of the car with him, he had cleared Shades and the entourage to assemble before the hordes of press, preventing people storming them, or indeed, the photographers getting decent pictures of her.

"I did not expect this", she commented, looking out the tinted windows.

"Of course not", he smiled, "I had perhaps anticipated it but that is my job, I brought ten men with me in the other cars".

"That was decidedly very wise of you".

"Thank you", he smiled, "Ready to face the music, dancing is optional".

"Yes", she laughed and he climbed out, to open her door for her.

As she stepped out, the flash of bulbs -which she was quite used to blinding her- was unbelievable. He placed his hand on her back protectively, walking with his body slightly around her, almost going back wards. The shouts of the photographers for her to stop for a moment did not dissuade him from his goal of getting her safely into the hotel. He continued, with one hand to push the press back from her, now and then his jacket falling open so they got a flash of the metal in his holster. That was not intentional but the threat of a gun and the knowledge that he was terribly well trained in using it often scared them off.

Inside, when they eventually got through the crowd the hotel manager greeted them with a smile as he quickly took them through the lobby of the hotel and into the area of the hotel where Clarisse often booked a dining room. The restaurant, she had noticed was extremely busy and she felt extremely guilty using this place when her Michelin-starred chef was not exactly ran of his feet in the palace. However, that was being pedantic so she followed Joseph and George - she had learned his name from the conversation he was having with Joseph - to a suite, aptly named Francois the third after Rupert's' grandfather.

"I shall leave you here, your Majesty" he bowed slightly, "Joseph".

"Thank you, George".

The man turned and made his way down the short corridor and disappeared behind the door that led into the main body of the Hotel.

"Shall we", she questioned, pushing down the handle.

"Well why not?"

She did not have time to answer; a chorus of "Happy birthday" had filled her ears as she stepped into the room. Immediately, she was angry having assumed it was a huge amount of people but soon she realised that was not the case, that there was just a small, very selective group of people assembled in the room. She turned round swiftly, and slapped him playfully on the chest.

"Happy Birthday", he smiled.

_Well, there you are. Was it obvious in the lead up or not that there was to be a party, I would greatly appreciate it if you told me._

_Thanks!_

_Yours,_

_M_

_Xx_


	13. Chapter 13

They sat around the table; she sat between Marguerite, her only friend of many years and Pierre, who she had been delighted to be greeted by. Sebastian and Sheila were also sitting at the table, with Mia and Lilly, Charlotte and of course, Joseph. She was quite excited, giving that she hated birthdays she felt completely spoiled, and she smiled at Charlotte with questioning eyes.

"Charlotte, you managed to thoroughly convince me that I was dining with Sebastian tonight!"

"I am getting far better at lying, Your Majesty" Charlotte answered quietly, her face going red.

"Oh, dear!" Marguerite, who had been laughing with Mia and Lilly since they had sat down suddenly intervened, "Call her Clarisse!"

"Marguerite!" she reprimanded, "Do leave her alone, Charlotte can call me whatever she's most comfortable with!"

"I can think of something she might choose to call you, giving you are her boss".

Although Marguerite was the same age as herself, she acted far from it. She was not desperate to regain her youth, definitely not, but out of the two of them, she had been the rebellious one. She had been the one that walked straight out of her arranged marriage, had set up home with a toy boy and lived the life Clarisse had so desperately wanted. She now lived in New York with a young man called Marco, who was a producer on Broadway.

"Oh really!" Pierre smiled, whispering quietly "Mama, you must relax slightly. Aunty Marguerite was merely jesting". He patted her shoulder.

"I am quite well and relaxed, thank you Pierre" she laughed, kissing his cheek, "How I have missed you!"

It was a merry event, with much banter that she was much happier to listen to and laugh at, than take part in. she couldn't quite believe he'd gone to this trouble, collecting together the very few people in the world she cared for and bringing hem altogether to celebrate something she found insignificant. It did not anger, in-fact it made her feel special. They ate a fine meal, which Joseph quietly insisted was all on him, which she grudged but did not argue.

"I believe", he smiled, as they sat drinking coffee, "That there are some presents waiting to be opened by you, Your Majesty".

"I believe there is", Pierre smiled, producing a perfectly wrapped parcel from his side, "You see Mama I was too busy to phone you this morning because I was wrapping this and then I had to catch the plane".

"I see", she smiled taking the present from him, "All is forgiven".

It was a stunning silky jacket that felt like water when she touched it. It was red with delicate flowers at each corner.

" Why! Darling, its beautiful" she smiled, holding the jacket up.

"You're welcome".

It took her nearly forty minutes to open her birthday gifts from her friends. Mia and Lilly had clubbed together and bought her the entire collection of Cary Grant movies, which they insisted was for her to drool over. Charlotte gave her a quaint pair of earrings and a silk scarf which was lovely, and Clarisse thanked her profusely. The girl blushed so furiously, she was bright red. Sebastian and Sheila gifted a stunning bunch of flowers and another scarf and from Marguerite she was given a pair of stunning, though killer heels.

"My Darling", Marguerite smiled, as she thanked her, "Never, ever can you own enough shoes".

"Of course not", she agreed.

"So, my dear what are you wearing to this ball tomorrow night? Something absolutely wonderful no doubt, giving the seamstresses and dress-makers you have at your disposal".

"The reason Lady Marguerite is asking, your majesty" Joseph interrupted from beside Marguerite, "Is that I was rather assumptions and invited her to the ball".

"I see, Joseph" she answered, "That was a good idea".

"I thought so" he smiled.

The night had been wonderful but she was tired, she was tired with all the true attention being lavished on her.

"I think" Joseph smiled, checking his watch, "it's time we made our way to the palace, for all the company here it will be a busy day tomorrow".

"True", Sebastian agreed, standing up and putting a coat over his wife's shoulder, "Anyway, we must go home and make sure Marissa is in bed".

"Of course", she smiled, "Thank you so much for coming".

Again, they smiled with a hug goodnight and with their security, who had been standing by one of the doors, left after saying goodbye to everyone.

"Well, I do believe I have been harangued into going for ice-cream with my niece and Lilly", Pierre commented, lifting his jacket from the back of his chair, " And of course. Charlotte". He offered his mothers shy assistant a smile. He was fond of Charlotte but all those rumours of a relationship between them were absurd.

"Well, you will look after them now" she questioned.

"They have security with them, four men I believe" Joseph answered, offering her shawl.

"Yes, well be back by at least 12, Amelia" she ordered, "You have a ball to host tomorrow evening".

"Yeah, ok!" Mia sighed, dragging her uncle and Lilly out of the room with Charlotte in tow. She distinctly heard Mia comment loudly to her new uncle as they made their way out, "You know, you don't look like a priest".

She chuckled to herself and then turned to Marguerite, the only guest left in the room.

"My dear!" Marguerite leaned forward with no bow or formalities and kissed her soundly on the cheek, she flinched at the contact but Marguerite paid no attention, "I shall see you tomorrow, I'm staying here tonight and I promised Marco I'd phone him, needy little boys, eh? Goodnight Joseph, look after her!"

"She's quite insane", she commented, watching her friend sashay out of the room, "But she's devilishly good fun".

"She seems to be quite that!" he answered, draping the shawl over her shoulder and them, made for the door. Carrying the gift bags that contained her presents.

"Joseph", she grabbed his arm as he walked past her, and stopped him in his tracks. There was no one on the room, it was theirs to talk for the while that she waited to be open with him.

"Thank you" she said sincerely, honestly.

"You are entirely welcome".

"No one has ever done this for me" she continued, "Nothing like this".

"I wanted to", he answered simply, "You deserve to be loved".

Please review,

Thanks!

Yours,

M

Xx


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